The Only Thing Worse
by sapphireswimming
Summary: Sam had never grown up "normal." He had never fit in at the many schools he'd attended. He'd always been picked on. But it wasn't until years later that he realized that maybe... maybe that was more normal than he thought.


**Hmm. I wanted to upload something but the only fics I had finished were superphantom. So... hooray! I shall continue contributing to the crossover inundation of your inboxes. And try to change things up next time. XP**

**Timeline:** Nothing specific for Supernatural and just a _brief_ reference to Danny Phantom's _Fright Night_ episode… (/is shot for the grossest pun in the world).

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**The Only Thing Worse**

March 6, 2014

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They decided, without even needing to discuss it, to take a look at the high school first. There had been several supernatural incidents there in the past year. To be fair, nearly every location in the entire city had had several odd occurrences that needed to be looked into, but the Winchesters needed somewhere to start.

Sam had a special place in his heart for schools, libraries, and other places of learning so he naturally wanted to get the place safe and secure as quickly as possible. On the other hand, Dean couldn't care less about the school, except it housed all the young people in the area, and he always seemed to try to finish cases more quickly when kids were involved.

So they were of one mind as they stepped into the halls of Casper High.

A flood of memories rushed over them, just as they did every time the brothers found themselves back in school building. Memories of never knowing the names of the people who sat around you, but knowing the teachers, and principal, a little too well.

Dean sniffed and straightened his jacked as he headed straight for the principal's office, not put off by the stigma that never kept him from ending up there when he was attending school himself. Sam, instead, slowly wandered the halls with an EMF meter, hoping to find signs of spectral evidence to start narrowing down their search.

It screeched as soon as he turned it on, red buttons lining up noisily in a row before falling down to a soft hum and a single red button which signified that there was, in fact, some remnants of spectral activity in the hallways. But it did not disappear or grow more intense as he moved through the school, just fluctuated a little. The entire school showed up on the meter as he swept everything from lockers to classrooms to bathrooms to the cafeteria. Ceiling, floor, walls, desks, filing cabinets, made no difference.

Sam guessed that he would get the same results outside of the building and even off of school grounds. Something would probably register on the meter as long as they were in Amity Park. He would need to test out that particular theory after they'd left for other parts of the town, but his hypothesis was sound considering that Casper High was by no means the only ghost-frequented spot in the city.

At any rate, he was getting no help from their trusty meter, so he flipped off the switch.

In order to keep his time from being a complete waste while the older Winchester interviewed the higher ups on the school staff, Sam decided to walk around and see if he couldn't catch a couple kids willing to answer some questions when periods changed.

Of course, he had completely underestimated, or forgotten, what the halls were like in between classes. At the bell, a rush of students flooded the halls and Sam found himself flattened up against a skinny cinderblock column between two rows of lockers, trying to fold his lanky frame smaller so he wouldn't be bumped and jostled by the crowd rushing past him.

There was no way that he would be able to single out any students like this, even if he managed to emerge from his spot against the wall. He wondered how he had ever been used to this.

It was hard to pick out anything in particular out of the deafening roar around him. Squeaking sneakers, slamming lockers, rustling pages, not to mention the trampling of feet and the talking, murmuring, shouting, squealing coming from nearly every student.

When the initial rush had died down a fraction, or maybe he had just grown accustomed to his surroundings, he noticed a knot of several students on the other side of the hallway from him. Or perhaps he was just used to the scenario. Several large students advancing on a smaller one.

He could recognize a bullying from a mile away.

"Hey Fentonia," the leader of the bullies drawled. He was a buff blond in a red letterman jacket. The other kids advanced in a line behind him, following the lazy flick of his wrist. Obviously the leader around here.

Thankfully, Sam's height gave him a view of the proceedings. There were still too many bodies between him and them to break it up, though. And he would never be heard if he tried to yell at them above this noise. Why would they bother listening to him if he wasn't on the school staff anyway? He and his brother could both stare down the meanest monsters out there, but he knew from experience that high schoolers took no notice if you didn't have the authority to hand out a detention, and not even then.

The kid they were surrounding was small, thin, and had an unruly mop of black hair. He answered the taunt in a world-weary tone that Sam was all too familiar with. "Hi, Dash," he sighed.

"You know what happened today?" the blond asked in a sneering voice.

"Let me guess," the smaller teenager deadpanned, "you got a bad grade on Lancer's English quiz this morning?"

"Yeah!" the football player exclaimed. "I failed it," he punctuated each word with a finger to the scrawny boy's chest. The line of his minions advanced menacingly.

"Well then I guess you shouldn't have made me eat your lucky underwear, huh?"

At that, Dash fisted both hands in the boy's red and white shirt and hefted him up against the lockers, staring him down with narrowed eyes.

"Dirk," he ordered without turning his head. Without another word needing to be spoken, as if they had this routine down to a science, one of his friends jogged forward and opened the door to the kid's locker, the only one in the nearby row that was currently unlocked.

Sam started to push through the remaining students in order to stop what was about to happen, but before he pushed through the initial resistance into the current of bodies, the black haired boy had been shoved into his own locker and the door loudly clanged shut behind him.

"You'll just have to make up for taking away my luck, then, Fenturd! Good luck getting out of there before detention," he called as he snapped the lock shut. "And by 'good luck,' I mean… not!"

He and the rest of his posse laughed as they walked away and within another thirty seconds, the hallways were completely empty.

A sigh echoed throughout the small metal locker and there was some scuffling as the boy inside seemed to adjust to find the most comfortable position, not that any position in there could be in any way remotely construed as any kind of comfortable.

Sam walked up and rapped his knuckled lightly on the door. "Hey," he began softly.

The movement stopped for a while before bright blue eyes shone through the ventilation.

"Yeah?" the kid asked warily.

"What's your name?"

"Danny."

"Hey, Danny. I'm Sam. I'm gonna get you out of there, okay?"

"Oh," Danny stumbled as if he was surprised by this turn of events. "Uh, okay… if you want, I guess."

"Yeah," Sam smiled. "What's your combination?" Then, he paused, struck by a new thought that made him panic for a moment. "This is your locker right? You know the combo? Because if not, I've still got a lock picking set in my pocket, so it might take a little longer, but…"

"No," Danny laughed at the rush of words, "it's mine."

As he rattled off the numbers, Sam spun the metal circle and before long, he had the door open and Danny unfolded out of the locker.

"Thanks," he said as he leaned over to crack his back.

"I'm sorry about that," Sam apologized.

Danny turned around with a handful of papers for his next class with wide eyes that stared at the stranger in confusion. "It's not a problem," he finally said.

"Does that sort of thing happen a lot?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Danny admitted lightly with a shrug.

Sam regarded him seriously. "You can stand up to them, you know."

Danny looked at him oddly for a long moment before changing the subject. "So why are you here? Looking for something to do with that lock picking set of yours?"

"No," Sam grinned. "No, my brother and I are here to investigate the hauntings."

The teenager's face blanched. "Well," he began before stopping to clear his throat. "Well the entire town is haunted, you know; it's not just the school," he pointed out.

"We know, but we needed to start somewhere."

"I guess," Danny muttered. "You talked to my parents yet?"

"Parents?" Sam asked, lost.

"The… Fentons? Local ghost experts," he explained.

Sam paused. They had had no idea that the town had local ghost experts, although he realized it made sense given how haunted the place was. "No, we haven't," he replied.

"Oh, well you probably should before you do any more researching around here. They can give you the lowdown."

"Are they… hunters?" Sam asked cautiously. The low mortality rate of ghost attacks would make sense if there were hunters there taking care of the problem already. Although, if that was the case, he would have expected to hear that through the grapevine, that they either needed help or that the job was taken and under control. Then again, plenty of hunters worked alone and under the radar. Perhaps since they were planted here with a family permanently, they figured that made the area taboo for anyone else without needing to spell it out. He and Dean would definitely need to look into it either way. They already stepped on way too many people's toes without realizing it.

"Yeah," Danny confirmed. "Hunters, inventers, scientists…" He let the sentence hang and Sam understood the implication that they were jacks of all trades.

"Great," he said. "Where do they live?"

"Fenton Works," the boy replied.

"Um, where's that?" Sam asked with a crinkled forehead.

"Dude," Danny said, stopping just short of rolling his eyes. "You can't miss it: giant neon lights on top of the ops center."

"You have an Operations Center in your house?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Yep," Danny confirmed like it wasn't anything exciting.

They were interrupted when the older Winchester came toward them. "Hey, Sam!" Dean called out as he walked up behind the pair.

"Yeah, hey, Danny, this is my brother, Dean," Sam turned to introduce the two.

"Hey," Dean said with an easy smile and tilt of his head.

The teenager eyed him back with a carefully closed off face. "Hey," he replied shortly. "Well," he said, turning back to Sam, "I need to head to class before I get a double detention."

"Oh, right," Sam said, surprised as he realized that they'd been talking for several minutes after classes had probably begun.

"Thanks again and I'll probably see you around, then."

"Okay," Sam answered.

The two brothers watched the dark haired figure disappear down the hallway and into one of the far classrooms. Dean glanced over at his brother with what would have been a quick jibe about how hot the redheaded girl in the secretary's office had been when he caught sight of Sam's pensive expression.

"Hey," he called, snapping his brother to attention. "Care to let me in on what's going through that freaky head of yours, geek?"

Sam sighed in response.

"Bring back memories, huh?" Dean sniffed as he nodded vaguely around at the place.

"Yeah," Sam said distractedly. Then he visibly pulled himself together and looked at his brother, "You get what you needed for now?"

"Yep," Dean replied. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "It sounds like we've got a lot more researching ahead of us than we first thought," he remarked.

Dean sighed theatrically. "Yeah, that's what it looked like to me too."

"Did you know that Danny's family are hunters?"

Dean quirked an eyebrow. "That so?" he asked. "Huh, never heard of hunters in this part of Illinois. They live here all the time?"

"Sounds like it. I think this is their only hunt. There's definitely enough here to keep them busy."

"Well, we'll have to check it out, then. But I need food first. And then you can hit the computer," he smirked.

Sam punched him lightly in the shoulder as he laughed, "You're such a jerk."

But then his expression grew more serious as they approached the double doors leading out to the parking lot. Before walking out, he paused to look back down the dimly lit halls one last time before they left.

Instead of Dean's usual comeback to their customary exchange, his brow furrowed and he asked seriously, "Sam? You sure everything's okay?"

"Yeah," Sam said as he chewed the inside of his mouth, but he was thinking of his days of getting pushed around, stuffed into lockers when he was still the perfect size to get picked on and the bullies at their latest school hadn't learned yet that you didn't mess around with Dean Winchester's little brother.

And he thought then that maybe the only thing worse than moving around and changing schools every three weeks because of his family's job was being stuck in the same place while everyone knew what your family did and having to deal with stupid teenagers' opinions of it.


End file.
